In 1895, two years after taking up his first headship at Portsmouth Grammar School, James Carpenter Nicol had to deal with a problem which “seriously hampered schoolwork and sports” – an influenza epidemic. It was noted that in the colder classrooms where, it was claimed, ink froze in the ink-pots, pupils were less likely to get sick. It was surmised that “microbes are as fond as heat as ourselves, and flocked in their thousands to the rooms of warmer climate”.  

Mr Nicol’s teaching staff numbered 13 and it is reported that, at one time during this epidemic, seven were laid low. But by April it was all over and the Portmuthian happily reported that 

“the Influenza has come and gone, leaving with us pleasant and disagreeable remembrances. Remembrances disagreeable, to some, of aches and pains; pleasant, to others, of days spent in comparative idleness. On the whole, the majority of us cannot but have kindly feelings towards the epidemic which gained for us so welcome an exeat. It seems to have attacked the masters more heavily than the boys.” 

Mr Nicol had to cope with a staff shortage again during the First World War as teachers volunteered to serve their country. But by October 1918, a few weeks before the Armistice was signed, the deadly “Spanish flu” pandemic hit the school. Mr Nicol notified parents that the school would be closed for two weeks from the 14-28th October. Sadly at least one boy’s father died, throwing the family into desperate poverty in the days before the welfare state. Several Old Portmuthians who were serving their country in the armed services are also known to have died. The total number of fatalities in the UK is estimated to have been 200,000, and up to 50 million globally.   

In 1929 the Head, Canon Walter Barton reported that influenza had reached the school and, at one time, 120 pupils out of a total school roll of 550 were off sick. Three years late, during another epidemic, two-thirds of all pupils were reported as being absent. Tragically, one boy died and several staff were recorded as being seriously ill.  

In the exceptionally harsh winter of 1939-40, Head Joe Stork and his pupils not only coped with the chaos, challenges and adventure of wartime evacuation and billeting in Southbourne, but also with an epidemic of German measles and influenza which, once again hit both pupils and teachers. The editor of the Portmuthian wrote: 

“We were led to believe that warmth and winter sunshine awaited us, and what have we found? Biting north winds, prodigious falls of snow, drizzle, slush… The health of the School has suffered in proportion, but ill-health, as well as bad weather, has been general throughout the country. German measles has been the principal scourge, with influenza running it a close second. Here we should like to voice a word of thanks to householders for the patience and consideration they have shown when boys in their care have been ill. We assure them that their kindness has not passed unnoticed.” 

Schoolboys with “lobster-like faces” were sent to bed and some whole forms were completely written off. A humorous poem in the Portmuthian included the lines:  

At first the harmless, necessary sneeze ;  

Then nostril damp, premonitory wheeze  

Of bronchi clogged, unmoved by any Zube;  

Then the physician's slim mercuric tube  

Revealed "One hundred  !  Hm . . . he's got the 'flu."  

It really didn’t hurt, but was so contagious; 

You stay away from school – so advantageous 

To those who dislike Test, Exams and Orders 

That those who caught it from us should reward us! 

David Miles (OP 1941-45), recalls his experience. “Just prior to the Easter holidays, I found myself in an isolation room with a nasty ill feeling and a temperature. One of my fellows had preceded me but nobody was telling me anything about his or my condition. I was examined by a doctor during the night and, the following day, ordered to pack my case and go home for the holidays. Somehow, feeling very unwell, I struggled with full attaché case to Pokesdown Station and there boarded the Royal Blue coach for Portsmouth…I was whisked away “home” to Bosham, where my parents were living because of bomb damage to our house in Portsmouth, and there spent most of the Easter Holiday in bed with closed curtains… Fortunately, I seem not to have suffered any of the sometimes severe complications which can accompany measles.” 

Michael Taylor (OP 1952-61) recalls the polio epidemic in the 1950s. "I remember that sewage in the sea was considered to be a possible source. I think at least one pupil caught the disease. Martin Pickford remembers the measles epidemic of 1961. "I remember when half the class of lower three was off school with measles in the spring term". 

The most recent Influenza pandemic to hit the school was in 2010. The Portmuthian reported that it was a “particularly devastating strain” that “infected both teachers and students alike” Fortunately it was a simulation of how disease can spread through populations which provided pupils with an introduction to the study of epidemiology. 

With thanks to OPs who shared their memories.